Like many cities of our civilization, Kaliningrad is a clearly organized urban space. It has its own modernist climate, truly presenting the idea of creating an ideal city for an ideal man in an ideal world: one street is like another, one apartment block is like another. There is no architectonic dissonance interfering with the geometric clarity, no evidence that the city had another, pre-modern past. One can have an impression that Kaliningrad exists only since today, even though life pulses through the city as if it has existed forever. But only the omnipotent whirl of countless words and statements written on billboards, walls, and newspaper pages can provide a sense of depth to the city. Such words as: YOUTH, SMILE, VICTORY, KKS "Rossija", ACTIVE PEOPLE BREATHE IN A MORE ACTIVE WAY, BATTERIES FOR ALL CARS, TIME FOR EB, BALTIC STADIUM. An exotic presence is created by the fact that the words are written in a language that seems to be a hallucinatory mixture of Polish and Russian characters: some words with identical meanings are written in different ways and others with different meanings are written the same way. Silent words written on city streets become living monuments that document, on one hand, the actual history of the city and, on the other hand, the people living there.

When I reach for an undefined "map" of letters and statements written on city streets, instead of reaching for a clearly delineated city map, a superficial understanding of Kaliningrad - the history, the desires, the sensitivity of people living there - points me questions without answers, puzzles without solutions. A conventional city map obscures the sensual image of city life. An ambiguous map of letters encourages and forces me to subjectively engage myself with Today Kaliningrad, My Kaliningrad - a city unknown to its very citizens.